Price of Freedom
by Nevoreiel
Summary: Jack escapes hanging, but only on a certain condition. JackNorrington slash.


**Title:** **Price of Freedom**

**Pairing:** **Jack/Norrington**

**Rating:** **R**

**Summary:** Jack escapes hanging, but only on a certain condition.

**Disclaimer:** All familiar characters and situations are Copyright by Walt Disney Pictures and Buena Vista Pictures, 2003. No infringement meant and no money made.

**Notes** Very, very belated response to japanpeterpan's request – Jack/Norrington, alternative ending where Jack is not sentenced to hang on a certain condition. This turned into a mini-fic instead of ficlet, perhaps my mind was trying to make up for the supreme lateness of the piece.

* * *

Jack Sparrow prided himself on his bargaining prowess, among other such useful assets. And what better way to spur him on than to threaten him with death by hanging – quite the undignified way to go.

And that is precisely why he was plotting the coordinates for Isla de Muerta under Norrington's watchful gaze that lingered a little too long on his swaying hips and gesturing hands.

Pausing, Jack returned the hungry stare, startling Norrington badly, "Was there something else you'd fancy to get?"

Ruffled, Norrington stood silently, eyes darting away from the grinning pirate. "Perhaps..."

"And would this _favour_ earn me freedom from the noose?" Jack prodded, fingers playing with the dirty frill of his shirt.

Mouth set in a thin line, the Lieutenant nodded curtly. "Certainly."

Jack clapped his hands, taking a step towards the once again startled Norrington. "Well then, let's proceed." He had disposed of his shirt and sash when Norrington put a stop to the undressing, looking vaguely embarrassed because of Jack's eagerness. He advanced upon Norrington who had lost his composure slightly, eyes darting around as if trying to find an escape from this devilish madman.

Surprisingly coaxing arms wound around Norrington's stiff shoulders as Jack drew him closer, bringing his mouth to one ear. "Do I have your word, Lieutenant?"

The heat of another so close made Norrington dizzy and he managed a strangled 'yes'. It had been so long since he's been held in this particular way that it made him tremble and he hated himself for giving in so easily.

Jack tightened his grip and walked Norrington to the little table cluttered with maps and loose papers, fingers flicking open buttons and snaking his hands beneath the pristine shirt. He knew just how to mold Norrington under his hands, touch sure and insistent. Without hesitation, Jack reached inside the slate gray breeches. He was gratified to squeeze a moan out of Norrington and was glad that the man did not feel the need to slap him for the trespass. After all, he looked like he needed a good hard shag to pound some of the uptightness out of him.

Norrington refused to relax his rigid posture, standing like a statue as Jack coaxed him out of his waistcoat and worked the breeches slowly down his hips to his knees. Jack was none too pleased, but as long as the bargain was kept, he did not care whether Norrington wanted to make it difficult for himself. After whispering reassuring nonsense to him, Jack prompted him to turn around and bend over the table, hands busily running over smooth, pale flesh. Far too pale to be the skin of a sailor, Jack thought mournfully.

Producing a small vial that he had picked up while in Tortuga and glad that he had, the pirate stretched Norrington slowly, working on loosening all the muscles, trying to get the desired response. When he curled his fingers just _so_, he was rewarded with a long groan, Norrington's fingers digging into the wood of the table. Appeased by the sudden show of emotion, Jack went to business, cleverly and methodically unmaking Norrington's composure.

Shamefully pushing his hips back into Sparrow's burning thrusts, Norrington felt his wildly-hammering heart jump into his mouth when the bejeweled fingers encircled him – his testament that he _was_ enjoying it, almost despite himself. And, despite himself, he came, energy draining out of him and into the pirate's waiting hand.

Having done his part, Jack pulled away and was out the porthole within the minute, waving a small goodbye to the panting Lieutenant. No sense in hanging about while he still held his freedom.

**End**


End file.
